Lovesong
by PinkSandals
Summary: What if Sara never became a CSI?
1. Nobody's Home

Disclaimer: I own CSI. Oh right, sorry… that's only my dream.

Sara woke up with a start. The phone was ringing. Amber was already in the shower. She looked madly around, and saw the clock said 7:15 am. Cursing under her breath, she ran out to the kitchen and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" She said, annoyed. Her face suddenly changed to terror and she hung up without another word. She rushed around the kitchen, closing the curtains, making sure all the doors were locked, then doing it all again in a paranoid rage. Amber came out of the bathroom with a towel wrung around her wet hair. She entered the kitchen. She saw Sara at the table, reading the newspaper, pretending not to be nervous which really wasn't working considering the backdrop of locked windows.

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking around "… do we have to leave again?" Amber asked. Sara nodded nervously.

"Yeah, hun… I think we'll have to," She said. Amber turned and ran to her room before Sara could see her crying.

* * *

There wasn't much packing to do, they'd hardly even unpacked from the last escape. Sara packed what little they had into boxes and started loading it into the car. Amber came outside and sat on the steps, observing. Tears slowly ran down her face.

"Mom, why do we keep running?" She asked. Sara paused and brushed her hair out of her face.

"Because we have to, honey… I… I really don't know how to tell you, Amber." Sara said pensively. She picked up another box and piled it into the back seat of the car, on top of the folded-down seats. Luckily she only had her daughter to look out for.

"Can't we at least fly this time?" Amber suggested. Sara shook her head. "You ALWAYS say no, mom! I have got to be… the only 16-year-old in California who hasn't been on an airplane!" she complained.

"If it comes to it, yes, Amber… we will fly. Somewhere. But for now, we have to stay close to home, it's safer…" Sara explained to her daughter.

"How is it safe when you can't even tell me why?" she asked, desperate for her mother to say something. "And close to home? We don't even have a home!" She added. Sara just continued to pack up the car.

"We can talk on the way, Amber… could you PLEASE bring your stuff out?" Sara asked, closing the trunk before heading inside. "Oh, and could you get the spare key, too? Just put it on the kitchen table…" she added. Amber got up and went around to the backyard, running her fingertips over the white stucco of her house she'd learned to love during the past month. She opened the gate and proceeded to count bricks that lined the garden edge. The sixteenth one was a hide-a-key. She turned it over. The hollow where the key should have been was empty. Amber frowned. Her mother, being the paranoid nervous wreck she was, probably already took the key and forgot about it. She headed back inside, and told her mom the key was gone.

"What do you mean?" Sara asked, searching her key chain for it in case she'd already taken it. It wasn't there. "Amber? You sure?" She asked.

"I'm POSITIVE, mom!" She said, nervously. "Someone must've taken it…"

"Amber, we are leaving this instant… come on, let's go." Sara said, grabbing the rest of the contents of the fridge and stuffing it in the cooler. She rushed out, but her daughter stayed behind a moment, saying a silent goodbye to her now-completely-empty house.

* * *

Once they were safely in the car, Amber wanted to bombard her mother with questions about everything,although shedidn't really want to upset her. She turned the radio on low.

"Mom, maybe I should just be home schooled… I've missed two weeks of school already, I mean… since we're moving around so much?" Amber asked hesitantly. Sara said she'd consider it, but she kept her eyes on the road, glancing nervously in the rearview mirror from time to time. "Mom? I think at least we should phone the school just to say we're moving I mean… or they'll send out an Amber Alert… and we don't want to draw attention to us, right?" she asked, smirking. Sara laughed, but then agreed, and handed her daughter her cell phone.

About an hour later, they were on the interstate, which had Amber worried because her mother never told her where they were going. They stopped for gas twenty minutes later. "Mom? Where… exactly are we… going?" Amber asked. Sara looked at her daughter for the first time, relaxed.

"Las Vegas," she replied.


	2. Global Warming

After 3 hours on the highway, Sara pulled up to a gas station. She handed her daughter a ten dollar bill.

"There, take this… you can get yourself a snack or something," she said as she stepped out of the car to the pump. "Oh, don't forget to go to the bathroom before we head out again… it's another three or four hours 'til we get to Vegas," she added. Amber scoffed.

"You can't be serious," she hissed. "Do you know how much bacteria are in those?" she asked, pointing madly to the lavatories. "They can't possibly _not_ have health code violations. Really, mom." Amber said sarcastically.

"Hold it then," Sara suggested. Amber headed into the pantry to get something to eat. She returned moments later, empty-handed.

"All they have are chips and pop," she said, reaching for the door, only to find it was locked. "Mom," Amber said impatiently, "you locked me out!" she laughed nervously. Sara put her hand in her pocket.

"Where are my keys?" She asked herself. Amber bit her lip to prevent her laughing. She pointed to the driver's seat. Then she burst out laughing.

"MOM! You locked both of us out!" Amber exclaimed. Sara suddenly looked terrified. "Mom? Come on… you're a police officer! You break into cars all the time!" Her daughter whispered.

"Yeah, but not my _own_…and… I might scratch the paint…" Sara said, admiring the candy-apple red finish that shone deliciously. She sadly pawed at the window, wishing it wasn't there.

…..

Amber sat on the island of the gas station, listening to her mother hiss and snap at the car trying to break into it without the alarm going off. She was reading the ingredient list of her Fruitopia her mother insisted she buy. The first four ingredients were sugar. She nervously took a sip, but then spat it back in, disgusted. Shuddering, she headed over to the car to watch exactly what her mother was doing.

"Mom?" Amber said quietly. Sara paused and looked up at her. "Mom, you… should know that my Lysol is in there," Amber pointed to the backseat of the car, "and sooner or later… I'm gonna have to go!" She pointed madly at the washrooms. Sara rolled her eyes at that.

"Stop being such a freak. I'm doing my best!" Sara shushed. Amber went to sit down on the curb again, muttering something about glucose-fructose. Another car pulled up, driven by a farmer-looking-like guy. He offered Sara his help, but she politely declined, just as she got the door unlocked. Cheering like a giddy four year old, she got her purse and went to pay for the gas. Amber tagged along.

"Are you POSITIVE you didn't see any water in there?" Amber begged, waving her rejected Fruitopia around.

"Positive, Amber." She said, a little impatiently. She sighed and opened the door to the pantry and lined up behind the farmer-looking-like guy. "Y'know the world would be so much better without car keys. Wouldn't it?" Sara thought out loud. Amber thought for a second.

"No, no… I think the world would be much _much_ better off without petroleum." Amber replied. The few store occupants whirled around to look at her. She looked at them in amazement. "Oh come on. Don't pretend you don't emit 6 tons of greenhouse gases…every year…something each American is guilty of!" she exclaimed. Blank expressions greeted her. Sara looked nervous. "Hello people? 80 percent of that is from the fuels that power our cars!" She continued. Sara quickly paid for the gas, and grabbed Amber's arm to lead her out. Amber continued still, "it raises sea levels, alters forests, ecosystems… it affects human health!" She shrieked. "We aren't indestructible! And don't look at me like that! You brought it on yourself!" She added, as her mother dragged her out the door.

……

"I said I was sorry!" Amber repeated, once they were on the highway again. "It was probably my immune system crashing after ingesting that syrup!" She accused, pointing to the rejected beverage sitting in the cup holder.

"Amber… one of these days we will have to eat in a restaurant… and you will have to get over this… I don't even know what. It's insane! I'm not even that compulsive, Amber! What has happened to you?" Sara exclaimed, scanning the radio, but getting nothing but white noise.

"Maybe it has something to do with moving every month for God knows why!" Amber shot back. "I'm probably just as insecure as you are. You could be just as compulsive as I am. We're different. It's just that I will never understand why you cringe when the phone rings, or why you never wanted to be a criminalist, and you'll never understand how I can't touch food someone else prepares for me. Especially when it's a little Vietnamese granny in the back room of a fast food joint!" she said. Sara nodded.

"You're probably right," she said. Amber leaned back into the seat, and closed her eyes.

….

"Amber! Amber! Wake up… look!" Sara was shouting about three hours later. Amber woke up, startled.

"What? More desert?" She wondered.

"No, look!" On the horizon, bright lights were shining into the blackness of the night sky above it. "It's Vegas!" Sara declared. Amber squinted with sleep.

"Why are we going to Vegas of all places, mom?" Amber asked groggily.

"Exactly!" Sara answered, which confused her daughter. Amber pondered that for a moment.

"OH! I see how your twisted little plan works now!" She exclaimed. "You're right, mom. They'll never guess it. And we might be able to set a record. Maybe… two months?" Amber said. Sara smiled. The rest of the trip was in silence.


	3. Dad?

Usually her mother had pre-arranged plans when they would move. They'd rent a small house or apartment, and by the time they got to wherever they were going, it would be ready for them when they got there. This time, Sara and Amber had to leave without warning, so to Amber's chagrin, they stayed in a hotel. They left most of their stuff in the car. They headed up the stairs, their room was on the second level, and the elevator was broken. Amber shook her sleeve down past her hand, and used it to hold onto the railing. They found room 202. It was nice. Amber put her suitcase down, and pulled the quilt off the bed. She spotted her mother's look of suspicion.

"They only wash these things about three times a year!" Amber informed. Sara looked disgusted and proceeded to pull her own quilt off.

* * *

Amber was always a little uneasy in hotel rooms. The smoke alarm glowed in the ceiling. What if it went off? The darkness was unfamiliar here. The clock said it was almost a half past midnight. Amber looked over towards her mother. She was in bed, but she knew she was still awake. Amber never asked her why. She felt she was fantastic for never asking. She never put her mother in an awkward situation. The nomadic lifestyle was not her favourite though. Since she couldn't actually see her mom, she thought maybe she would ask. She dared herself. She counted to three but decided not to say anything. She counted to three again, daring herself.

"Mom, it was dad, right? On the phone?" She asked. She heard her mom shift in her bed. She could not believe she actually said that. She suspected it for about a year now. She felt devious.

"Amber, get to sleep." Sara said, avoiding the answer. Amber decided it was too late to be adamant about it, so she said nothing more.


	4. Dreamer

Amber lay in bed, sleep seemed so far away. She felt a hunger to fall into a somniferous wave of semi-consciousness. The whole thing seemed a slight bit impossible at the moment, and it seemed like an eternity had passed in one moment. Amber suddenly felt trapped. Then she thought this emotion was a stupid one, and tried to fall asleep again, but like before, she seemed unable. She shouldn't have slept in the car on the way.

Jet lagged from a car trip seemed pretty pathetic.

* * *

Hearing music coming from the kitchen, Amber woke. Woke? She lay and thought about this for a moment. She couldn't really remember falling asleep. But who ever did? Without a second take, she got out of bed and maneuvered her way around the boxes that invaded her carpet space. Wait. She stopped pensively. Looking at the boxes, she thought for a moment. She…….. wasn't in a hotel room. Oh, right, the music. There was music. Hehe. Amber found herself musing over her train of thought wreck.

Her mother was in the kitchen, making bacon and eggs and singing to the local radio station's crackling version of a Dixie Chicks hit. Sun shone in great yellow beams into the small yellow kitchen, bathing the countertops in a healthy inspiring glow. Still groggy, Amber leaned against the entrance way, squinting slightly at the brightness.

"Morning, mom." Amber said. Sara turned, a tinge embarrassed at the unwanted witness to her spectacle. Sara smiled.

"Hey you…" she said, flipping an egg. "Finally up? It's eleven!" Sara said, happily. Amber smiled in final realization. She sauntered over to the table and took her seat. Her mom came and sat across from her, placing her plate on the drab beige placemat. They both ate in silence for a moment. "What?" Sara asked her daughter. Amber was continually surprised at how her mother just knew something was… up.

"Nothing, really…" Amber assured her, smiling devilishly. "I was just thinking about this… this funny little dream I had. It was about you, you and me…. And we were moving to Vegas." Amber said like it was the last thing on earth they'd do. She paused, observing her mother's not-quite-distinguishable reaction. "It was just a dumb dream, mom. Never mind." Sara still looked a slight bit stirred.

They finished breakfast in silence.


	5. Never knew

Amber was walking home from school. The sun shone low over the flat ground and hurt her eyes. This time of year it hurt, a lot.

She was wondering about the dream. It seemed weird that it was in third person, that she was an observer of her and her mother's actions. And it was really quite real. But the whole phone call thing. That was what was getting to her. The phone thing. Her mom knew something she didn't and she thought perhaps, _maybe_ perhaps this dream told her something.

But since when do dreams come true? The relocation to Las Vegas seemed a little extreme, but it had not yet happened, so was it going to?

Amber laughed to herself. Thinking anything in a dream could become reality was beyond silly and completely irrational. Besides, if she knew what was going to happen, she'd change it. Well, if she had powers like that, she'd change a lot.

Was her mother's secret something like in her dream? Was it a completely unimportant trifle? As stupid and weird as it was, Amber was convinced her dream was a little more than just a spin of life. Something had been bothering her all day. Something made her dream seem a _lot_ more real…………

She never knew her father.


	6. Midnight

And the fact that she never met her father made her curious to poke and prod around this whole larger-than-life semi-reality.

Amber walked up to her front door. Pausing pensively, she stopped and turned around. Heading towards her backyard, she ran over to the sixteenth brick. She turned it over. The key was gone. Frowning, Amber looked around. She felt someone watching her. She pulled her coat tight around her, and headed for the front door, dialed the keycode, covering her fingers so any observer wouldn't witness it. The door opened, and Amber was swept into the warmth of her house. Even through the walls, she felt watched.

"Shut up!" Amber hissed to her mind. She kicked off her shoes, put her bag down, and hung up her coat. She froze.

There was blood on the top of the stairs. A smear. Amber gasped, and backed into the coat closet. She fumbled for her phone. Who would she call? Without thinking, she called out loud, "Mom!" she waited a moment. She was shaking involuntarily. "MOM!" She called louder.

Sara came out from the downstairs laundry room, and spotted Amber. "Hey, hun! How was school?" she asked. Amber didn't immediately answer, so Sara looked up. "Amber? What's up?" she asked with a hint of concern. Amber felt her adrenaline die and she relaxed.

"I'm fine, sorry… school was fine. Mom? What happened? There's blood." Amber said, emerging from the coat closet, and approaching the blood. Sara looked mystified.

"Blood?" She asked. She put down a towel she was folding and climbed up the stairs to see. Both her and Amber were thinking the same thing at different levels. Amber kneeled down to examine it further. "Hey!" Sara warned, "don't touch." Amber wordlessly aborted her harmless plan.

"You've been home all day?" Amber asked.

"No, no… I went to the PD today for a bit." Sara said vaguely.

"Today's your day off, Mom." Amber said pointedly. Sara's reaction, or in that case, a lack of one, confirmed Amber's fear. She had homework to do. Pretending everything was alright, she met her eyes with her mom's, and tried to tell her how terrified she was without opening her mouth.

Seemed somewhat successful.

* * *

The phone was ringing. Amber jumped from her coma of quadratic equations. When Sara answered, Amber scampered from her desk to the balcony where she listened to half the conversation. Seemed like business. Disappointed, and still fearful, Amber returned to her math. She glanced at her clock. Holy pants!

Ten O'clock. Amber wondered if time flew faster when you were scared. She finished the last two questions, threw her textbook under her bed, and turned off the lights. The Wallflowers still sang softly in the dark. Amber this time, hoping to avoid any creepy dreams, fell asleep rather quickly, and left Sixth Avenue Heartache singing to no one.

* * *

The suddenness of her consciousness scared her. She didn't remember waking up, but for some reason she was. She realized her mom was in her room, sitting on her bed. Amber looked at her clock. 3 am.

"MOM!" Amber hissed groggily. Sara leaned towards her daughter, and stroked her hair.

"Sorry hunny. I have to go in to work, it's an emergency. I'll be back in time to make you breakfast okay?" Sara whispered. Amber nodded, just wanting sleep. She heard her mom leave the room, and heard the car start and drive away into the dead night. She fell asleep, again.

* * *

Amber woke up to sun in her face. She lay in bed a moment, and heard nothing. Well, maybe her mom had finished breakfast and was waiting on her. Amber quickly got out of bed, and dressed. She headed downstairs to the kitchen.

It was empty. Amber noted the time on the microwave. 8:30! She did a double take. She slept in, and was now late for school. Furthermore, her mother wasn't home.

The phone rang.


	7. Undercover

Amber stared at the phone for a second, half-hoping it would answer itself. She didn't want to answer it herself. She was still a slight bit scared about the key being gone, and although the blood at the top of the stairs ended up being the result of a duel between her mother's toe and the wall, she felt… scared. Then again, if she answered the phone and it was the creep who stole the key, he'd know she was home. If she didn't, he'd know she was scared. Finally, Amber decided all this over-thinking was ridiculous and answered it.

* * *

Sara was sitting in a car with another police officer, obviously undercover. The whole exercise had taken a lot longer than planned, but she couldn't phone her daughter, so she just let it go, and tried to focus on the job. There was still no sign of the suspect, and both officers were getting impatient.

"My daughter's gonna think I've been shot," Sara laughed.

"My wife is gonna hope that." The other officer said humorously. Sara winced.

"She's still pissed?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"And she's not keen on divorce?"

"No. She doesn't want to be 'one of those people'."

"Nobody wants to be one of those people, Sean."

Sean smiled painfully and looked out the window, tapping his fingers irritably. Sara glanced in the rearview mirror, still nothing but rain pouring down.

"Do you wanna go 'round the block once? Perhaps we can park over on the street, there… you can see more from there." Sara suggested. Sean nodded in agreement and Sara pulled out and waited to turn left.

"Does Amber know?" Sean asked. Sara sighed.

"Well I wouldn't put it past her deduction," Sara said. She pulled into the right lane and slowly drove around the block. "The thing is, that she knows… she knows about it, she just doesn't know anything specific and I'd like to keep it that way until I'm ready to talk about it with her, because it's a sensitive topic and sooner or later it needs to be discussed." Sean nodded. "I don't want to rush it, and frankly I am truly hoping the day will never come, but that hope is fighting a losing battle." Sara said. She pulled into a space at the curb of the road, and resumed their observations.

* * *

Amber fiendishly dialed her mom's cellphone, but it was off. That meant she was undercover, or in trouble. A part of her wanted to smack herself in the face and scream "YOU'RE A FREAKIN PARANOID!" but she always believed in feeling safe rather than sorry. She finished her toast, tried her mother's cellphone once more, and went to get dressed. She came out, dialed her mom's phone to no avail, searched for her wallet and keys, and froze when the doorbell rang. 


	8. She never told me

Amber failed once again to contact her mother. The next obstacle was finding out who was at the door. Amber slowly realised in a short period of time that she was making things out to be a lot more than they were actually. She took a breath and an advil for her headache and methodically opened the door.

Standing there was a young police officer. When your mother is one, and one is standing on your doorstep while your mother is incommunicado, it's not always a good thing, Amber thought. The officer looked too relaxed for bad news so she was relieved.

"Hello, Amber." He said, as if the last time he saw her was when she was four. "Don't worry about your mom, she's fine. The operation she was involved with took longer than planned. She asked me to take you to school." Amber didn't recognize him and things that sounded as fishy as this usually were.

"Sorry," Amber said, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door. "I'm going out." She locked the door and started down the pathway, the officer following her.

"Amber, I am responsible you as per your mother. Now, would you please get in the car?" the officer nudged askingly. Amber reached the sidewalk and saw the cruiser, now questioning her judgement.

"I'm sorry, I really am" Amber said apologetically, "but if I can't verify specifically with my mom, I'm not going. Obviously if I can't reach her on her cell phone, nobody can and if she's undercover, even you can't have spoken with her." She reasoned. She immediately felt bad for this young guy who was probably given specific and stiff directions to look after her and she was making his job about thirty times more difficult.

"I'm glad you are so mistrusting." The cop finally said, as if he was choosing his words but the way they came out still wasn't right. "But your mom said to me before she left that I was to take you to school if she wasn't back in time." He assured her. Amber studied him for lies. What an easy loophole. Or he could simply be telling the truth.

"My mom said nothing about it." Amber said, as she crossed the street to the bus stop. The light turned, thus causing a heard of cars to spring forth and preventing the cop from following her. A bus pulled up, Amber got on, and was gone.


End file.
